


Justification

by stew (julie)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Gen, Moral Dilemmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1990-03-01
Updated: 1990-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23192908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Doyle isn’t comfortable with being required to protect property developer Robert Andrews, who’s set to destroy a local community. He and Bodie provide the required protection, and foil a misguided attempt to give Andrews a scare – but will Doyle ever feel that the end justifies the means?
Kudos: 3





	Justification

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** in the zine “Backtrack” #2 edited by Joanne Keating in March 1990.

# Justification 

♦

" _More_ baby-sitting? Oh come on, sir… give us some real work. Doyle and me are bloody sick of all this pussy-footing around." 

I was, too, but I wasn't going to tell Cowley about it. I stepped in quickly, if not literally, to try and save Bodie from some of Cowley's impending wrath. It was the late afternoon of a long day, and neither of them were in any mood to make allowances for the other's temper. 

"What he means, sir, is that we've done a lot of baby-sitting lately, along with some pretty long surveillance duty. And then there was all the computer searching we did in the Harold case. Anyone would get restless." 

"Are you questioning my allocation of duties?" The Scot's voice had risen slightly, and I winced a little. 

"No, sir." 

"Yes, sir," Bodie interrupted me. "What’s Murphy involved with right now? Sounds like he could do with some help." 

"And you think you could do with some action, I suppose," Cowley said, as disgusted as I'd heard him for a long time. "Sometimes I wonder what you're in this job for, Bodie." 

"Goes over well with the birds when I tell them I'm James Bond, sir." 

Cowley started his pressure-cooker glower, so I hastened to add, "He doesn't, sir; he tells them he's a civil servant." I had witnessed this on a number of occasions, along with Bodie's best smirk which openly challenged the girl of the moment to tell him that he couldn't possibly be the paper-pushing type. On the other hand, not that I would tell Cowley this, there were the occasions when I’d heard him introduce himself in a posh accent as 'Bodie – William Bodie', complete with a tweak of the shirt cuffs and a direct Bond-style gaze. The man had no shame. 

"What Murphy is doing is no business of yours, Bodie," the Cow finally declared. "I hope you're not labouring under the misapprehension that I have to explain every assignment to you?" 

At last the idiot backed down a little. When Cowley starts using long words inthat deliberate way of his, I usually run for cover. Bodie, however, would only settle for silently making his feelings known – his body language bordered on excessive at the best of times. 

"No, sir," he muttered. 

"Well, then, the two of you get over to Andrews' office immediately. Here's the file – you can read it on the way." 

I took the file from Cowley, and had a quick look inside at the photo. "Oh, not Robert Andrews!" I cried out in a disgust to match Cowley's. 

"And why _not_ Andrews?" Cowley snapped immediately. 

"Sorry, sir – it's just that I've been reading about him in the papers." 

"Then you might not be surprised to hear that these people have threatened his life." 

"No, and I can understand why. I don't want to be on Andrews' side." 

"We're not taking anyone's _side_ , Doyle," Cowley exploded. "I've had more than enough of the pair of you today! We're here to do a job. Andrews has a Class XA security rating, so he's entitled to CI5's protection, regardless of your likes or dislikes." 

"Yes, sir." Bodie was already halfway out the door, so I clutched up the file and followed him out before Cowley could say anything more. 

I flipped through the few reports and clippings, and read the rather vague death threat, as we wandered down the corridor. "This guy's a right bastard, you know," I said glumly. "This'll be a heap of fun." 

"Yeah – you've got to get your job satisfaction somewhere," Bodie replied brightly. "Looks like this job will satisfy you." 

"I'd get some bloody satisfaction if…" 

"Now, now, now. I hope you're not actually gonna help these outraged citizens blow Mr Andrews to kingdom come." 

"We'll see," I muttered, eyeing Bodie. While the man had a temper, it was usually well-leashed and he rarely brooded. Consequently, he seemed to have now accepted our new assignment with equanimity. "You're gonna be bored stiff," I warned him. 

"I'm sure there'll be something to amuse myself with… Andrews will have a secretary, right?" 

"No doubt." I didn't think it would be politic to let Bodie know the man also had a daughter. 

"Well, you heard the old man – let's get to Andrews' office!" Bodie cheerfully led me down to HQ’s garage, and I read out the address given in the file. "Nice area!" he said as he pulled the car out onto the road. "Must be rolling in it. Come on, tell all – why don't you like the man? Other than the fact that he earns more than you, of course." 

"Of course." I sighed. "He's got this idea for developing some property; building a bloody enormous hotel, casino and shopping complex." 

"So?" 

"So, the trouble is that the complex will be bang on top of a community of blacks. And Andrews' methods for trying to relocate them have not been pleasant. Heavy-handed would be the polite term for it." 

"Anything illegal?" 

"No proof, but plenty of allegations. From the way it’s all been handled, I don't blame the people for thinking the cops are on Andrews' side." 

"But taking the law into their own hands…" 

"They've got a community there, Bodie, it's not just a home or two, or a few businesses, it's more than that. I used to work in the precinct. These people built it all themselves, from nothing, and with no help from anyone else. Now Andrews wants to bulldoze the lot. No wonder they want to fight it out with him.”

"I can sympathise – but not with their threats." 

We were silent, then, until we got to Andrews' office. To Bodie's delight, the man's secretary was young and gorgeous. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" 

"I certainly hope so," Bodie said with his best smile, moving in to perch his rear on the side of her desk. The man, in my experience, has never had to resort to subtlety. 

"Yeah, we're from CI5, to see Mr Andrews," I interrupted before he could really get going. 

"He's expecting you, sir. Please go in." 

"We'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other, sweetheart," Bodie promised. But once we were through Andrews' door, he was all brisk efficiency. "Bodie," he identified himself, waving his ID around too quickly for Andrews to take in: that was one of his favourite ways of annoying people, the childish prat. "He's Doyle." 

"I've just been on the phone to George Cowley," Andrews started right in. "He said to show you this." I took the piece of paper from him. "It arrived a few minutes ago." 

"How? Was it personally delivered?" 

"No, Miss Engels said that it just came through the office rounds." 

"Delivered to the building, but they're long gone," Bodie concluded. "Read it, Ray." 

"'You will receive a surprise, a token of what might come. Your home is no longer your castle. Maybe this will make you understand.' – Are your family at home?" I asked. 

"No," he faltered. "My wife is at her sister's, my daughter is at the university. She won't be home for two hours." 

"Phone your wife and tell her to stay there. Your daughter, too, if you can contact her. And until Cowley sends replacements for us, don't see anyone," Bodie told him as we headed for the door. "The replacements will probably be cops. We'll be in touch." 

"All right," Andrews said, a little shaken. Bodie rattling off orders can be a tad overwhelming if you're not used to him. 

"Bye for now, Miss Engels!" Bodie took the breath to call as we sprinted past the secretary and towards the stairs. He shot me an engaging grin as we reached the first floor. "Nothing wrong with mixing pleasure with business, Doyle." 

"Where have I heard that before?" I said in my most long-suffering tone. "You're getting repetitive, Bodie." It was easy to know what he was going to do next, as well. Gleeful as ever at having the excuse to break not only the speed limits, but the sound barrier as well if humanly possible, he leapt into the driving seat of our Capri and had the pedal to the floor almost before I'd shut my door. "You know where we're going?" 

"So tell me," he said. 

"Turn left here." I found the address in the file and read it out. We were there quicker than we had any right to be. "You missed your calling – you should have been a rally driver." 

"Ever heard of reincarnation? I was a get-away driver in a previous life." Bodie had parked at the end of the street for the sake of discretion. He drew out his gun and cocked it. "How do you want to play this?" 

I gazed down the road at Andrews' house. It looked quiet from where we sat. "These people are amateurs, Bodie, especially if they're still there after the note's been delivered. We play it easy. And we try not to set off any booby traps they might have left behind." 

"Amateurs? You don't know who they could have hired." 

"I'll lay odds it's a do-it-yourself job." 

"What odds: our lives?" But he was complaining by rote. "Let's go." We climbed out of the car and walked slowly down the street. Luckily, Andrews' house was detached, so after seeing that the front was quiet, Bodie ducked into the neighbour's garden to peer over the fence into Andrews' back garden. He beckoned me over. "Amateurs!" he whispered, grinning malevolently. 

There was a black youth fiddling with some device by Andrews' swimming pool – and another standing close by him, watching him, who you'd think was meant to be looking out for trouble such as us. "That's it?" 

"Looks like it. Easy, just as you said. You go around the other side of the house, give me a wave when you get there." 

"Leaping fences again, Bodie?" 

"Any opportunity I get. Keeps the crims on their toes." 

"As long as _you_ keep on _your_ toes." 

"Trust me! Come on, they'll have finished and strolled off by the time you're ready to make your move." 

I headed right around the front of the house, and crouched at the far back corner. The two youths hadn't blinked an eyelid. I waved at Bodie, and while he was making his attention-getting entrance, I ran in closer and yelled, "Freeze!" The red-handed suspects took one look down the barrels of our pistols, and obediently froze. I handcuffed the bystander. 

"This primed?" Bodie snapped at the other. "Any other devices around?" 

"No," the boy said reluctantly. “Neither.”

''Just as well, sunshine." Bodie cuffed him, and we escorted the pair back to the Capri. He called Cowley, and then we waited not so patiently for the bomb squad to arrive to take care of tidying up Andrews' garden before the local kids got curious. "You boys are going to have some fun now," Bodie promised cheerfully as I drove us back to HQ. "We're going to give you a guided tour of CI5's interrogation rooms." 

"Ain't got nothing to say to you." 

"Did you hear that, Ray? His grammar's as bad as mine. Oh yes, we're gonna have a great time together." Bodie settled back, obviously anticipating something wonderful. The youths looked somewhere between scared and angry and resentful. Mostly scared. Amateurs. 

We started on the one who'd been working on the bomb and, before he shut up, all we found out was that his name was Wynton. "OK, we know the motive and we've got the proof – you'll be charged and sentenced. But civilised things like that come later. For now we need some information. Like what the hell you hoped to achieve with this little stunt." 

Our Wynton remained silent. I said, heavy with solicitous sarcasm, "He was just trying to make Bob Andrews' above-ground pool an in-ground pool, weren't you, son? Just trying to be helpful." 

"Helpful?" Bodie cried out, making the boy jump a mile and come down quivering. "Would have been very helpful if Miss Andrews had come home from Uni early, and decided to take a dip. Or one of the neighbourhood kids came round to 'borrow' the pool while the family was out. It's a lovely warm day, too." 

"Was gonna water his lawn for him," Wynton said defensively. "No one was gonna get hurt." 

"But you don't know that, do you?" Bodie said severely. "Anything could have happened. This isn't a game, lad, this is people's lives." 

"It was just to warn him." 

"And what if he didn't take that warning? What were you going to do next? Blow up the house? With them in it?" 

I quickly followed Bodie. "Who else was involved?" 

"Just me and Sam," Wynton finally said, head bowed. "The others wouldn't have approved, so we didn't tell them." 

"Ever wonder _why_ the others wouldn't have approved? Of all the stupid, hare-brained schemes…" 

"So there's nothing else like this planned? No other little surprises?" I asked. 

"Maybe there is." I knew in my gut that he was lying, but it took some time to get him to admit it so that Bodie was satisfied, too. And then Wynton held out for a while about where he got the device – it wasn't anyone from his home that he was betraying, but I guess he was scared of reprisals. It took a fair bit of work to shake a name out of him, and at the end of it he was, mentally at least, a bit of a mess. "Don't you know what he's doing to us?" Wynton finally cried out. "You're as bad as he is." 

"We do what we have to," Bodiesaid coolly. He shrugged. "We get paid to have this much fun, you know; don't take it too personally." 

"You're all on the same side," the boy spat out. "On the side of the money. I'm just trying to protect what's mine from people like you." 

"Blowing Robert Andrews up ain't the way to go about protecting what's yours in England, son," Bodie pointed out conversationally. "Might be OK elsewhere. Won't work here, though." 

"We already tried the legal ways. No one wants to know." 

I was going to say something sympathetic, but Bodie stopped me with a warning glance. We left Wynton and Sam to the boys in blue. 

"Nice day's work," Bodie said, sounding satisfied, as we wandered on up to Cowley's office. 

"Yeah, I just love scaring boys like that half to death." 

"'By whatever means necessary', that's what it says in CI5's brief. Get lots of job satisfaction out of that little clause, I do." 

"Yeah, and what's the result? Andrews bulldozes their homes, and they think we're as bad as he is. Makes me sick." I knocked on Cowley's door, and barely waited for his reply before I walked in. We told him what had happened, and he seemed almost as pleased as Bodie was. Another situation defused. Another problem tidied up and swept under the carpet. I hung around for an extra moment, looking disgruntled. 

"What is it, Doyle?" 

"Sir, Andrews is leaning on these people, and they're not going to give. So he's gonna keep leaning until they break, unless someone makes him quit. If CI5 is about the prevention of crime, there must be some way we can stop these people from getting hurt." 

"And to stop them from trying to hurt Andrews again," Bodie added, though I told him in a glance what I thought of that side of the issue. 

Cowley eyed me for a thoughtful breath in and out – and then he picked up the phone. "Leave it with me, Doyle. I know people in the Planning Office and the Mayor's Office. I've been wondering myself at the zoning for this particular piece of land. I think it’s high time for them to discuss relocation of this little project with Mr Andrews. And high time for the Chief Commissioner to review Mr Andrews' behaviour, too." 

"Thank you, sir!" I stood there like a twit for a few moments before Bodie dragged me out, hardly believing that it could all be out of my hands that quickly. But that was the Cow for you – you'd often find that he'd been brooding over the same problems as yourself, and then some. And you'd also find that he'd often have the solutions, too, and the contacts to make the solutions work. If Britain had ten more Cowleys and a hundred less of Andrews' type, our fair country would not be in such a mess. Then again, I'd probably be out of a job. 

"See, that was easy," Bodie said smugly as we wandered back down the corridor. "You might feel that the means are hard to justify this time, you old softie, but you should know that Cowley will never let you down with the end." 

"Wynton will never know that it was us."

"We can live with that. Let's face it, we're never on Joe Public's Most Appreciated List. Old Joe never even knows what we do for him half the time, and that's the way we want it, right?" He smiled, as impeccably charming as ever. "Come on, sunshine, I'll buy you a drink. You're probably looking at the only guy in the world who knows about the heart of gold you hide under that hard-nosed attitude." 

"Yeah – I guess I still have to learn to live with all that," I said glumly. “I’m not like you, Bodie.”

He ignored that. "After the drink, mate, we have a hot double date." 

"First I've heard of it. Who with?" 

"With Miss Engels and a friend of hers. I admit it, I was gonna be greedy and tell them you couldn't make the date, but what the hell – you deserve cheering up right now." 

"You know who I ended up with last time I went on a blind double date with you, Bodie…" I complained. "Anyhow, when did you have the time to call her up? No, don't tell me, you were just mixing your pleasure with a little business." 

"Told Andrews I'd be in touch, didn't I? I think our ends are definitely going to be justified tonight, mate." He grinned. "Come on, Ray, trust me on this one. What are friends for?" 

"What, indeed?" I followed him out, beginning to laugh. Friends are for providing a little justification in one's life, of course. And some of them can be damned good at it. 

♦


End file.
